


Ten.

by raaawrbin



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Hurt/Comfort, KaneTsuki - Freeform, M/M, Mental Health Issues, OT3, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-17 21:17:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3544115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raaawrbin/pseuds/raaawrbin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Count to ten, and your troubles will go far, far away.”</p><p>Tsukiyama Shuu had lived most of his life on his father's words, and it had worked, for the most part.<br/>But really, life was never quite so easy.</p><p>(or simply put, that broken!Tsukiyama AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Papa's Trick

**Author's Note:**

> Well...I've finally decided to write a fic for my broken!Tsukiyama AU! First chapter's a little short but I haven't written in ages so I'm very rusty. Please forgive me...and I hope you guys will bear with me...
> 
> You should probably listen to the Tokyo Ghoul Omabien (Drama CD) first to get some references: http://haise.co.vu/post/112716315332/omabien-is-a-voice-drama-that-came-with-young

 

Tsukiyama Shuu was afraid of ghosts. He didn’t care if they were but a figment of his imagination, or if they were real, either way they scared him.

Years of having to live behind multiple facades had mostly buried any signs of the fear, but those within the centermost circle of the Tsukiyama household would remember what was known as ‘The Night of Chopin’. Tsukiyama knew it better as ‘The Night of Seventy Old Ladies’, but only he and a handful of others knew that he hadn’t gotten out of bed in the middle of the night to play Chopin loudly and passionately on a whim, but because he had apparently seen the ghosts of seventy old ladies in his room.

Tsukiyama never understood why such a great deal was put into keeping the ‘ghost’ part of this incident under wraps, but a great deal was what it was. Servants were made to swear their silence, and Tsukiyama himself told never to speak of it again.

‘There are no such things as ghosts, and you saw _nothing_.’ He assumed that even if he’d only been five it was still something that could have tarnished the family name.

Shortly after the incident, his father sat him down upon his knee. Such close contact rarely happened with either of his parents, but when it did it was behind closed walls where no one was there to judge how a future heir should be groomed, or how aloof a patriarch should be, even towards his own child.

Five year old Tsukiyama’s heart beat just a little quicker at being within such close proximity with his father, and flushed when a fine featured face pressed close to his own.

“Can you count to ten, Shuu?” It was no place for the head of the house to be involved in petty things such as his son’s education. That was a servant’s job, so he didn’t even know if the boy could count.

“I can, father.” Shuu might have scoffed at the question if it had come from someone else. He was far past counting to ten. By the next week he would be starting on algebra and French. They might have had the wealth to allow generations to live in luxury without ever having to lift a finger, but the Tsukiyama family still placed knowledge above everything else. Knowledge, after all, was power.

“Good.” A smile. “Let papa teach you a little trick.” He leaned a little closer.

Shuu couldn’t remember when he had been close enough to see the fine hairs of his father’s brow.

“Next time you feel scared, take a deep breath and count to ten.”

He followed the arc of that fine brow down to his father’s violet eyes.  
They looked warmer than usual.

“Count to ten, and your troubles will go far, _far away_.”

 

||| ||| | ||| |||

 

On a derelict roof which that overlooked most of Tokyo, Tsukiyama counted to ten. When he next opened his eyes, Kaneki had gone.

But he wouldn’t let him go far.

He’d resisted the urge to throw himself at the boy, and it had taken all he had to just let him leave. Tsukiyama knew after months of sparring that he was no longer a match for the one-eyed ghoul. He knew he could either be beaten and lie half-dead in a pool of his own tears and blood, or make himself useful whether Kaneki wanted his help or not.

If Kaneki wasn’t going to use him as his sword any longer…then he would become his _shield_.

He flicked his wrist up and checked the time. Ten minutes, gone. It was enough time to make Kaneki believe he was heading towards Anteiku alone, but not long enough that he could put much distance between him and Tsukiyama. If he wanted to catch up to him now, he’d have to leave promptly, and make haste.

The Gourmet turned towards the stairwell, running through a series of information in his head. Should he summon help? No, it would take too long and something might have happened to Kaneki by then. What then was he to achieve just by following Kaneki into a den of wolves?

Maybe this was it. The moment he had been waiting for. The fair white flower he had been tirelessly cultivating over the past six months had finally borne him a fruit and it was ripe for the picking.

Tsukiyama jerked to a stop on the stairs, almost missing a step. He blinked slowly, and touched a hand to the flat of his stomach.

The ravenous little worm that usually panged at the bottom of his gut whenever he thought about Kaneki wasn’t there, leaving him feeling oddly liberated. Instead the feeling had been replaced by something in his chest, the same tremolo he got that day when his father had sat him upon his knee.

It had been the last time and it had been so long he thought the tremors tugging at the strings in his chest were but a figment of his imagination. Were they now just tactile hallucinations as well? Unlike the squirming hunger that was like like a million little ants threatening to claw out of his stomach, this felt more like a fluttering of butterfly wings, caressing the inner walls of his chest, coaxing him to tear them an opening to freedom.

It was different.

Unfamiliar.

Tsukiyama didn’t know what it was.

 _That_ scared him.

_‘Next time you feel scared---‘_

He took a deep breath and counted, slowly, to ten. When he was done he pressed a hand to his chest and sighed when he felt nothing there. “You’re just hungry, be cool.” He told himself, but the words dripped with the rotten taste of self-deceit.

The butterflies might have gone, but whether they had gone far away was something left to be said.

 

||| ||| | ||| |||

“T..en…”

 

Ten.

Ten.

Ten.

Tsukiyama Shuu counted to ten.

But this time none of his problems went away. Had he gotten something wrong? Maybe the breath he took before he started counting wasn’t deep enough, but it was hard to inhale when he was face first in the ground, gurgling around the blood pooling from the gaping hole in his chest.

He tilted his face to the side and tried to get an arm under himself to push himself up, but was reminded that he no longer had access to either limb, seeing as they lay several feet from his own body. He might have laughed at the similarity of the situation to that one time Touka sliced his arm off, but all that came out his mouth was a wet, choked noise.

He had to move. Tsukiyama learnt early on that as a Ghoul, if you stopped moving, you might as well be dead. The sentiment had been drilled into him during the numerous brutal and merciless training sessions his mother had conducted for him as a child. It was that very sentiment that made him grit his teeth and pull a leg up to his chest, pressing his weight on it so he could, at the very least, push himself up to a kneel.

He didn’t stay off the ground for very long. A sharp pain bloomed from the very bone of his shin and spread to the rest of his right leg, toppling him back down against the concrete yet again. The sensation of having something skewer right through his bone blotted his vision with flashes of white. When he could see again, there was a pair of shoes before him, mere inches away from his face.

They were black nondescript shoes. Standard CCG issue. Time had taken its toll on the leather, but they were well-maintained none-the-less. Probably could still have seen the shine on the toe, if it hadn’t been stained with his blood.

Tsukiyama looked up and was immediately drawn to a headful of white hair.

“Ka…neki-k…un?”

But it wasn’t who he thought it was. The white of the hair was even more blinding than the pain had been and the face was all wrong---hard around the edges and the eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses. Tsukiyama could see his reflection in them, lying prone and looking pathetic on the ground. If his parents could see him now, he was sure he would be put away.

The smell of death hung heavy in the air around the man, a cloying sweetness that a human would get if they ate a cheap cake made of too much sugar and little else. If he squinted, Tsukiyama thought he could see a congregation of faint figures behind him, staring at him with vacant eyes.

_‘Ghosts don’t exist.’_

That’s right, they didn’t. It must have been all that blood he’d lost, for he couldn’t even feel when the man leaned over him to pull the Quinque out from his leg. It took the form of a lance, long and tapered at the end. Tsukiyama might have called it elegant, if he wasn’t at the receiving end of its tip, poised directly above his left eye.

_‘Next time you are scared---‘_

One—

Was he afraid?

Two—

He supposed he must be,

Three—

since he was counting.

Four—

Did death scare him?

Five—

_No._

Six—

It was the thought.

Seven—

The thought that he might not be able to see him again.

Eight—

His white haired obsession.

Nine—

_Kaneki Ke—_

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

 

Tsukiyama Shuu never managed to count to ten.

 

||| ||| | ||| |||

 


	2. Chyrsanthemum Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a sea of red chrysanthemums, he saw him.

 

Meat.

MEAT.

_MEAT._

**_MEAT._ **

**_MEAT—_ **

He rolled it around in his mouth with his tongue, chewed and felt the soft mush of it slide down his throat.

_Delicious._

“-eki”

Amidst the pounding of his heart in his ears he could have sworn he heard someone.

“…un-“

But the skitter of a hundred miniscule legs scratching along the inside of his skill was too much and too loud, drowning it out. Vaguely he felt a hand on his shoulder push him down against the wall to a sit. That helped, the voices softening down to a constant buzz. Or maybe it had been the meat. That _meat_. Where had it come from? He needed more. He _wanted_ more. More meat. MORE MORE MO--

“…alright?”

The voice, raggedy and sounding not much better than he himself would at this point, broke him from his thoughts, clearer than it had been a moment ago, but still not enough to cut through the buzzing of noises in his head. He tried to see who or what it was that was speaking at him, but all he could make out in the darkness was a rough silhouette.

The hand that had remained on his shoulder squeezed tightly, then let go slowly, reluctantly.

_No_

He didn’t understand why, but all at once his chest hurt with the pull of despair.

Don’t go.

He didn’t even know whose hand it was.

Don’t go.

And yet…

_Don’t go._

DON’T G---

||| ||| | ||| |||

 

Dark eyes flew open with a start and a gasp. Kaneki shot a hand out but all he groped at was empty air. Stagnant air. Air that carried the stink of sewage.

And _death_.

He stumbled as his senses came back to him, one by one, first his smell and then the feeling in his legs, then the cloying taste of blood in his mouth. His sight returned to him last, and blinking against the dim lights of the sewer he caught a flash of yellow at the corner of his eye.

“Hi…Hide?”

He was being propped up, an arm around his shoulder. The sound of sploshing water made him realize his legs were moving, taking slow but steady steps. It seemed like they had been walking along for a while now.

“Yo, Kaneki.”

Kaneki blinked once, twice. His friend looked straight back at him, a smile on his face, albeit not as bright as he remembered. Was he real? He assessed his surroundings and all around them were the rusted walls of a sewer. He couldn’t see where the tunnel behind them led, but from there wafted an overly sweet aroma that reminded him of fruit that were just turning over ripe, sweet but also…rotten.

Wait---

Anteiku, Yoshimura, everyone----

 _Route V14_.

“Hide, why are you here? T-the raid---” Kaneki twisted against Hide but his friend held him firm.

“It’s over.”

Over? Yet he was still here, alive. It was hard to believe, but Hide would never lie to him. There were so many questions running through his mind. Had everyone gotten out alive? How had he survived? And a more pressing matter…

Did he know?

Kaneki turned back to Hide and opened his mouth, but the his friend had already beat him to it.

“I already knew, man!”

Kaneki swallowed hard. His saliva went down laced with the tang of copper.

“But who cares about that? Let’s just go home, already.”

A simple few words, but they were enough to wash Kaneki over with a sense of relief. Pushing all his troubles to the back of his mind, he let go of all the tension in his muscles and leaned against Hide, releasing a shaky sigh. It had been a long time since he felt like he no longer had anything to worry about, that everything was going to be okay.

“I’m just glad you weren’t hurt when I found you.”

Kaneki’s legs came to a halt, jerking Hide back a few paces.

“Kaneki?”

He looked down at himself, smoothing a hand over the unscathed skin on the right side of his torso, where he remembered, vividly, a large wound had been.

“What’s wrong?”

 _Everything_.

||| ||| | ||| |||

 

It was strange, sitting in the living room of Hide’s house, wearing a borrowed shirt like he did whenever he slept over as a child. The house hadn’t changed much from what he remembered. For a moment it was as if nothing had changed and he was just at his best friend’s house to play a video game or finish some homework. Except now he had a headful of white hair, and could be executed at any time for what he had become.

Kaneki missed the days where he complained about having a boring life.

“So how did you find me? What were you doing there…?”

“We just snuck out the noses of a few hundred CCG members and got back to my house, but we’re jumping right into it huh?” Hide set a cup of coffee down on the table. Just one. He didn’t drink coffee but kept some at home for whenever Kaneki came over. Kaneki wondered if Hide knew that was one of the few human foods Ghouls could ingest.

“I’m sorry…” He took the cup but didn’t drink. “I know I’ve been gone a long time…I’m sorry I didn’t contact you…or tell you…”

“It wasn’t a car accident.”

Kaneki blinked.

“It was Nishio-senpai, right? He’s a ghoul.”

Black nails dug into the cup, quivering slightly.

“I think I realized after that…that you were one too.”

The cup broke, spilling its hot contents all over the floor. But even as Kaneki, apologizing over and over, frantically mopped up the mess, Hide continued.

“I was waiting for you to tell me yourself, but I wanted to learn more about ghouls, you know, so I could understand you. Or even…help you. When you disappeared…I joined the CCG.”

Kaneki’s head jerked up as if out of reflex at the mention of the CCG, but Hide was already down on the floor with him, picking up pieces of the broken cup.

“I thought the CCG must have lotsa information about Ghouls...When I heard the ‘Centipede’ had appeared during the raid, I knew it was you.”

“But how did you find me there? Didn’t anyone stop you?“

“All that Metal Gear Solid really helped!” He laughed, and it was enough to disperse the tense atmosphere around them. Kaneki felt a tiny smile pull at the corner of his lips, despite everything that had happened, and was still happening. Hide had that sort of effect on people. He didn’t, however, answer the question fully, and Kaneki noticed. “Saw the cover of that manhole slightly outta place so I gave it a gamble. You should’ve made sure to close it properly man, what if someone else had seen it before I did?”

The manhole? Had he even attempted to close it after he’d gone in? Kaneki couldn’t quite remember. Anything after that had been a blur.

“Anyway I went down there and there you were, you were passed out and there was lotsa blood but you seemed okay.” Kaneki touched a hand instinctively to the right side of his torso, where the wound had been. It unnerved him. It shouldn’t have healed. “Hid there for a few hours but no CCG came down to check, lucky us huh?”

「They’re a bunch of beastly class investigators that can even make Ghouls feel—」

「 _fear_.」                       

Irimi’s words rang in his mind. They hadn’t come down to check because they were sure any Ghouls that had passed through Route V14 wouldn’t have survived. Lucky? Maybe, at the cost of the very people he’d wanted to protect never making it through Route V14.

In the end, Kaneki still hadn’t been able to protect anybody.

“I,” He started, dropping coffee stained tissues. “I need to go.” To see who had gotten away safely, or at least to see what was left of them. He made to stand, but Hide caught his arm.

The half-Ghoul could have easily broken his grip, but he didn’t

“I won’t stop you.”

_He hadn’t either._

In his mind’s eye, a rooftop that overlooked most of Tokyo. He wasn’t sure why he thought of it now but he pressed the image to the back of his mind as Hide continued.

“But right now what you need is rest. Look at you, you’re exhausted. How much can you achieve, if you went back out there now?”

Between the two of them, Hide had never been one for logic. It had always been Kaneki pulling Hide back from his crazy, outlandish antics. It seemed the tables had turned, much like most of his life had ever since the ‘accident’. Nishio-senpai was right. Hide was more than he seemed, and right now was making a lot more sense than the voices in his head were.

“I’ll stay.”

Just for the night.

||| ||| | ||| |||

 

He was there again, underground, the tunnel stretching on for what seemed like miles.

Before him, a figure stood, bathed in white. Kaneki tried to make out who, but all he saw when he looked up were red chrysanthemums, full and plump and blossoming in place of where a face should be. The apparition’s head inclined towards him, and the flowers quivered. Perhaps it spoke, but Kaneki couldn’t hear any of it. The silence was so loud it was deafening.

  

For a long while they remained still, Kaneki a dark mass on the ground, the other a pillar of white, save for the stark red of the chrysanthemums.

The figure made the first move, kneeling, bringing Kaneki at eye level with a perfectly round hole right in the middle of its chest. He wondered how he hadn’t noticed it before. Squinting into it he could see nothing but a darkness that stretched on into what he felt must be a different dimension, someplace separate from the madness of this world, someplace safe. While he stared, transfixed by the emptiness of the cavity, a pungent and familiar scent wafted out from it, going straight into his noise and coating his tongue with a coppery sweetness.

That same pale hand was on his shoulder, cold and clammy.

_Who are you?_

It leaned forward, so the petals of its face tickled his nose. They bristled. Kaneki counted ten of them.

_Why are you here?_

The hand gave his shoulder a squeeze. _Déjà vu._ Kaneki knew what came next.

The figure stood.

_No._

It turned, making its way down the long tunnel. Kaneki couldn’t follow no matter how much he tried, legs unresponsive to his commands.

_No._

An overwhelming sense of despair.

_No._

If he let it go, he would never see him again.

_Him?_

_Who?_

He stretched a hand out, even as he watched the stranger disappear into the darkness.

_Please—_

||| ||| | ||| |||

 

“—DON’T GO!!!”

Kaneki woke with a start, the palm of his outstretched hand sweaty. Glancing around he found himself on a couch in a small living room and remembered this was Hide’s house. The smell of coffee from where he’d broke his cup still permeated the air despite the detergent, at least, to a Ghoul’s nose. A quick look at the clock above the television set told him it was little past ten in the morning. He sighed, slumping back down, a hand rubbing lines out of his face. He felt even wearier than he had before going to sleep. Nightmares were no stranger to Kaneki, but they were usually inhabited by Yamori and Rize. This one had been different. It had something to do with the raid, but his head hurt trying to recall what.

“Bad dream?”

Kaneki shot right back up, hands clenched in fists. But it was only Hide, standing at the kitchen door holding something in his hand.

“Hide,” He sighed, hands falling into his lap. His defences were still up from the raid. “Sorry.” Actually, they’d been up ever since Aogiri.

“Is alright!” Hide brushed it off like it was nothing. “Your phone’s been ringing a while now.” He tossed it at Kaneki, who caught it easily with a hand. Hide might have been surprised at his reflexes, but didn’t seem to show it.

The phone buzzed in his hand, still on silent from the night before. He flipped it open and picked up the call the moment he saw who it was.

“Onii-chan!”

“Hinami-chan,” Another weight off his shoulders. “You made it out…Banjou-san and the others…?”

“We’re all fine!” Her voice sounded strained, like she was about to cry, “Onii-chan, you didn’t call, after…after they reported the raid had ended…we thought—“

“Where are you?” Kaneki was already up on his feet, combing through his tousled hair with his fingers. “I’ll be right over—“ He paused, catching Hide’s eye. He lowered the phone, but again his friend was a step ahead of him. “I said I wouldn’t stop you. I suppose you’ve got friends on ‘that side’ now too, huh?” ‘ _That side_ ’, he must have been referring to Ghouls. “It’s alright! If they’re your friends…I’m sure they’re good people---uh, Ghouls.”

Hide rounded the couch and came to a stop in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder. The same side the strange being had touched in his dream.

It burned.

“Remember, if you need help, I’m always here.” A squeeze on his shoulder.

It _burned_.

“There’s still some things we humans can do that Ghouls can’t, right?” Hide laughed, but there was this certain glint in his eyes that Kaneki hadn’t seen before. He was being _serious_. During those six months Kaneki hadn’t been the only one who’d grown and changed. He got the feeling his friend knew some things that he didn’t, and if he’d really been in the CCG for that long then…

“ _Call me_.” It wasn’t a suggestion. “I want to help you. I can help.” For just a split second, Hide’s face contorted into something he’d seen often on a Ghoul about to pounce on its prey, or even a CCG investigator, about to land the killing blow on a Ghoul. It was gone in an instant, and the bright shine of Hide’s signature grin returned in its place. “Besides, you gotta introduce me to your new friends, alright?”

He hadn’t seen Hide in half a year, and they hadn’t even talked properly about what had happened to him. About him becoming a Ghoul. Yet here he was, still willing to lend a helping hand, still willing to wait. Kaneki wondered what he ever did to deserve a friend like Hideyoshi Nagachika.

“Thank you, Hide.”

 

||| ||| | ||| |||

 

It took some manoeuvring and quick impromptu planning, but Kaneki managed to make it out of the 20th ward with the help of Hide’s advice. He really hadn’t been joking when he said he could help. Kaneki wondered briefly what Hide’s moral stance on the CCG and Ghouls was, but that’d have to wait. It wasn’t that hard to reach the 6th ward once he had left the 20th ward. Many of the CCG had been moved from their posts in other wards to Anteiku for the raid, and most were still there. Either dead or wounded. Those alive and well would be busy picking up the broken pieces. The Ghouls that survived on the other hand, didn’t have the luxury of counting their friends’ corpses. It made Kaneki question himself.

Had he made a mistake, sparing all those CCG--humans he’d come across? Maybe if he hadn’t held back…maybe then he wouldn’t be checking off a list of who amongst his friends were alive and dead right now.

Kaneki turned up at the apartment he’d been calling his home for the past six months with furrowed brows. The flutter of a red dress against his skin and small hands squeezing tightly around his waist wiped the frown away.

“Onii-chan!!!”

Hinami, hair messier than usual, and dressed in a colour he’d never seen her wear before, was sobbing wholeheartedly into the front of his shirt. But she was here, alive, and that was all that mattered. Banjou and his gang emerged from the back of the house and Kaneki felt like his heart was going to jump out of his throat. He didn’t resist when the burly Ghoul pulled them all into a hug. Hide had been the light at the end of a storm, but seeing this little group, his little ‘family’ alive and well was like the rainbow at the end of it all.

For now, at least.

They sat around the glass coffee table like that used to in those months they’d been together, the drone of the television filling up the silence. For being so elated to see each other again, no one really knew what to say after. None of them had any idea what to do, or more like, what they could do at this point.

‘—the raid was a great success—‘

Kaneki sat tight lipped, combing through the tangles in Hinami’s hair.

‘CCG have confirmed a 99% culling rate of Ghouls in the 20th ward—‘

He felt Hinami tense up under him. It was hard to listen to, but they had to keep up to date to know what their next move was.

‘—residents in neighbouring wards should keep a lookout for any suspicious people who might be surviving Ghouls from the raid—‘

“We can’t stay here.” He murmured, finishing Hinami’s hair with a small braid tucked behind her ear. “We’ve been here too long, we’ll have to find somewhere else to lie low while the CCG search for stragglers. Maybe meet up with the others…” He hoped Touka had evacuated before the raid. He hadn’t worried too much because he knew Yomo must have been there to snap her out of staying behind.  

“But it’s gunna be hard looking for new accommodations now. Might look suspicious.” Banjou reached over for the remote and switched the television off. That was enough for now.

Kaneki set the brush down. “You’re right—ah.” He blinked around the room, passing a glance at every face seated around the table. “Tsukiyama-san.” If there was someone who could help with relocating, then he was their go-to-man. He was a little surprised he hadn’t turned up by now.

“I called.” Hinami quipped, holding out the cellphone Tsukiyama had bought for her a few months back. No lady should travel around without one, after all. “But flower man didn’t pick up…We all thought maybe he’d gone with you…”

He hadn’t.

 _The rooftop_ —

Kaneki stood at the edge of the building, looking down upon Tokyo, its pretty flickering lights a giving away nothing about the violence that was descending upon it.

“Hey, it’s the creep.”

But he didn’t need Nishio to tell him to know. He could smell him from the stairwell, dripping with desperation and maybe…fear? Fear of the raid? No, Kaneki knew that it was something else, something more personal. He wasn’t sure if the Gourmet had realized it himself, though.

“Tsukiyama-san.”

“…you’re going?”

He turned. Tsukiyama had taken his suit off and the white of his shirt was stark against the night sky. Even now, dishevelled as he was, he still looked like a model.

“Do you know how many there are? Have you seen their numbers?” The voice that was usually smooth and melodious was trembling. “Even with my family’s connections….”

“I’m aware of the danger.”

A pause, and then, “ _As you wish_.”

Kaneki looked, really _looked_ at Tsukiyama. His hair was all tousled so he couldn’t quite see his face, but he could see the white of his knuckles where he was digging his nails into his palms. That was it? Kaneki couldn’t help but feel a little surprised. He’d expected the other Ghoul to beg to come along, or even try to stop him. If anything the Tsukiyama he thought he knew would have tried at least to take one last bite out of him.

People changed. Ghouls weren’t much different, in that aspect.

Maybe Tsukiyama had realized what Kaneki had for a while; that what he felt for Kaneki was no longer hunger, but—

“--Onii-chan?”

He blinked. His companions were all leaning in towards him, watching the phone he had in his hand. The other end had been ringing for long time now.

“He…didn’t pick up.” It was a strange feeling, after six months of having every call to Tsukiyama promptly picked up, to have his call go unanswered now. Maybe this was what it felt like to have taken something for granted. “It must be a mess for his family as well.” Reasoned Kaneki, though it was more to himself than the others. “His family has connections in all the wards, after all…”

Banjou and gang sat back in their seats with a sigh. “So no help there, then.”

“Yes well, we’ll just have to help ourselves, for now.” He stood up, stretching a little. “We can start by packing up. Just what we really need, we can’t carry too much or the CCG might take notice.”

They stood as well, more than happy to take his lead.

“Understood!”

 

||| ||| | ||| |||

 

“Onii-chan.”

Kaneki looked up from a book he had been browsing through. Most, if not all of them, would have to be left behind.

“Yes, Hinami-chan?” She was still wearing that red dress. It had lace trimmings and little white roses adorned the collar. The material flowed effortlessly around her. Chiffon, maybe. Kaneki didn’t take note of things like these as much as, say, Tsukiyama did.

“What’s going to happen to us?”

Kaneki put the book down. To be honest, he didn’t know. He was barely twenty, but if he needed to grow up faster so Hinami could stay a child longer, then that was what he was going to do.

“We’ll continue surviving.” It wasn’t much, but it was all Kaneki could promise at the moment. He wasn’t going to sugar coat it. It wouldn’t benefit either of them. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“ _We’ll_ make sure.” Hinami corrected, grinning at the look Kaneki gave her. Well, it seemed like he hadn’t needed to sugar coat anything after all.

The young Ghoul made to leave, but Kaneki caught her before she stepped out the door. “Your dress—“

“Ah, Flower-man bought it for me.” She took both ends of it and spread it out, showing it to him. No wonder it looked different from her other clothing. It must have been expensive. “Why, is it weird?”

“No,” Kaneki shook his head, smiling again. “It’s really pretty.” It wasn’t a colour he was used to seeing Hinami in, and it was more delicate and refined than her other dresses. But he could tell that effort had been made into picking this particular one for her.

“The red really brings out the white of your skin—“

||| ||| | ||| |||

 

When he awoke, he was no longer in his room. He noted that he must be dreaming, because he recognized the dirty walls of that tunnel and there was no way he could possibly be down there again. Kaneki blinked rapidly, eyes adjusting to the darkness of the tunnel. He thought it strange that he had to perform such basic body functions even in this place, but maybe that was just one of the qualities of lucid dreaming.

A howling wind broke the silence he couldn’t hear through before. Jerking his head to the source of the sound he saw him.

 _The white figure_.

The chrysanthemums were there like before, heavy and red in the height of their full bloom. They looked even fuller than they had before, pressing against each other like they were fighting for space on that face.

“Who are you?” He asked, aloud, this time. Hearing his own voice surprised even himself.

No reply. It shook its head, and the plump flowers looked like they might drop off if he shook too hard.

“Who. Are. _You_?” Kaneki pressed a foot against the ground, and this time was able to stand, slowly. He watched as the figure took a few steps back, just as slowly. It raised a hand, palm outwards, and again shook its head. As if to say, _‘it’s better if you didn’t know’_.

But he did want to know.

He _had t_ o know.

It ran.

Kaneki gave chase. His legs worked this time. The tunnel was long and winding, and the further they ran the brighter it got. Occasionally they passed a few holes in the wall where Kaneki could hear faint screaming. He couldn’t see them, but he knew that beyond the walls of this imaginary tunnel were a hundred other Ghouls, screaming their last breath.

It was finally when that sweet aroma hit him that he knew the tunnel was coming to an end. A rusted sign to his left read in large black letters ‘Route V14’. Yes, this was it. The place he had been heading towards during the raid, but never made it to. He willed his legs to work harder, faster, till he was right behind that white being. He shot a hand out and—

In a blinding flash of light they came to the end of the tunnel.

Kaneki opened his eyes slowly, peeking out from under his arm. It was so bright, too bright. When his eyes had adjusted, he found himself standing amidst a sea of chrysanthemums, as red as the ones protruding from the figure’s face. He didn’t know what Route V14 looked like, since he had never reached it, but he knew for sure this wasn’t it. No, this was—

“The…roof?”

The figure stood before him now, back turned and just an arm’s length away. Under the white light washing over the roof Kaneki could clearly see its silhouette; tall, with broad shoulders, a back that curved into a delicate waist and legs that went on for miles…it looked like it could have been a model.

_Oh_.

The figure was so close now, but any desire Kaneki had to see under the chrysanthemums now coiled into a tight knot at the bottom of his stomach. If anything, he wanted to run far, far away. He would have, if not for a sudden crippling pain in the right side of his waist.

“…ugh!!!” He looked down and it was there again, the wound inflicted by that investigator, Amon. It was a mess of blood and flesh, not healing, just as he remembered. He looked up, giddy, and the figure was turning slowly towards him.

_No no no—_

A few steps was all it took to bring them face to face.

_You need to stay away from me please—_

That hand reached out and took its place on his shoulder.

_Stop—_

All at once there was blood in his mouth, copious amounts of it that gushed down his throat against his will. He gagged against the flow of it, arms flailing, trying to push the apparition away from him. But it remained where it was and he couldn’t take his gaze off its face.

The chrysanthemums were wilting.

As they began to curl in on themselves and rot, Kaneki felt his side begin to mend itself, sinew and muscle stitching themselves back together. On the other hand, the hole in the figure’s chest had begun to ooze a thick tar like substance, staining the white of its body black, much like the flowers on its face which were all rotten by now. Their long withered petals began to drop, sticking to the tar below.

They fell away, and more and more the face beneath revealed itself.

_No—_

Kaneki wanted to turn away but his head was locked in place. Blood dripped down his chin in large dollops. Ten, nine, eight flowers gone.

_No no no—_

Seven, six, five, four flowers scattered on the ground.

_Nonononono—_

Three flowers left. Then two.

_NONONONONONO—_

Finally, the last one crumpled into a fine ash, dissipating from its place on the face.

Kaneki’s mouth was wide open, but he couldn’t hear himself scream. In its place was a smooth, even voice:

_“Was I delicious, Kaneki-kun?”_

||| ||| | ||| |||

 

He woke up howling, black nails digging into his head so hard there was blood dripping down the sides of his face. The section of his memory that had been missing from that night came crashing down on him mercilessly, without respite.

He didn’t process when Hinami and Banjou came in to see what had happened. All he could see were the sewers, the long tunnel, the dirty walls—

Tsukiyama Shuu.

_What have I done???_

 

||| ||| | ||| |||

 

Tsukiyama cursed as he ran through this godforsaken sewer, more so because he still hadn’t found Kaneki than the dirty water soaking up the bottom of his very expensive dress pants. He was sure the boy was down here. He could smell him, and Tsukiyama was very proud of his nose. There was no mistaking it. It was only a matter of whether he was too late or not.

When he finally came across a dark figure, stumbling and leaning heavily against the wall, he was ecstatic.

“Kaneki-kun!”

He made to approach, but stopped short of a wildly aimed appendage, shaped like that of a centipede. His breath whistled through tightly grit teeth. The kakuja was lodged in the wall right behind him, its multitude of legs scraping the side of his cheek as the wriggled about uselessly. It had been close. _Too close_. Warily, Tsukiyama walked alongside its quivering mass, making his way over to its owner.

“Kaneki-kun?”

The One-eyed Ghoul was in a heap on the ground, clutching at his waist. A steady stream of red dripped down, mixing with dirty sewage water.

“That’s a nasty wound, Kaneki-kun.”

_This is your chance, Tsukiyama Shuu._

He lurched forward, bending over the wounded Ghoul. That spot right above his shoulder blade tingled at the knowledge that finally, after six long months, Tsukiyama was about to partake in the most exquisite delicacy he had ever cultivated in his career as The Gourmet. He raised his right arm, “Bon appetite, Kaneki-kun—”

「 _But, I think having a comrade like you wasn’t bad._ 」

A flutter of wings—

「 _If it’s possible…please continue to lend me your sword._ 」

He stumbled backwards, clutching at his chest as if something had pierced right through his heart. His kagune never breached the soft silk of his shirt.

_What’s wrong Shuu?_

The wings beat frantically against his breast. He couldn’t breathe.

_He’s on his last reserves. You won’t have this chance again._

He focused on the crumpled form at his feet and it felt like his chest was about to burst. Kaneki Ken was at his weakest. He was _right there_. So why was his own body preventing him from doing what he’d wanted to do from the very beginning?

_What’s wrong Shuu?_

He didn’t know.

_Aren’t you hungry?_

A pause.

“Non… _pas du tout_.”

The beating of the wings died down. Tsukiyama knew they were still there, but this time he knew why they were in the first place. That time when he sat upon his father’s knee, that time their little group was disbanded…that time…on the roof.

Was this what _that_ felt like?

A caress of affirmation against his chest.

Tsukiyama knelt down before Kaneki. The sewage water seeped up where his knee was, but it didn’t bother him much that his pair of designer pants were probably unsalvageable. He wasn’t sure if Kaneki could hear him now, but it was time to let those butterflies fly free.

“Kaneki-kun…you know? I think I—“

A flash of white. His chest was, in an instant, empty. After all that, why had his little friends left him now?

“… _hungry_.”

A low guttural sound, but Tsukiyama recognized it well. He blinked down at himself and was confronted with the strangest of scenes. A long writhing kagune was protruding from his chest. That wasn’t where it was supposed to be—

 _Oh silly me_.

He gurgled out a laugh.

It wasn’t protruding from him, but rather, drilling into him. He looked back to Kaneki and found him awake, eyes wide, pupils blown. Awake but not entirely there.

“Kane…ki-kun—“ He doubled over, catching himself on Kaneki’s shoulder with a hand. The wound tried desperately to heal itself, but as long as that was still in him, it would just be a waste of precious energy. “Kaneki-ku—“ Another flash of hot searing pain. A second kagune dug into where the other had pierced through him and pulled out, taking with it a chunk of his flesh. He watched, oddly detached from the situation, as it pushed the piece of him into the other Ghoul’s mouth.

And Kaneki ate.

He ate and ate and ate, the slurping noises of his feast echoing throughout the tunnel.

Tsukiyama wondered idly if Kaneki liked how he tasted.

 

||| ||| | ||| |||

 

Kaneki came to with the sharp but sweet taste of fresh blood in his mouth, and a clammy hand upon his shoulder. Before him, a familiar head of purple hair, and bloody gaping hole. He could see the sinews twisting and twining, working to reform what flesh used to be there, but it was slow, and it didn’t look like it would be a complete job. In the back of his mind, a woman’s voice:

_You did this._

“Ts-Tsukiyama-san?”

He wasn’t supposed to be down here. A hallucination? But the hand on his shoulder felt as real.

“Looks like it healed up nicely.” Tsukiyama gestured with a shaking hand. Kaneki followed it down to his waist. He was right. It _had_ healed up nicely.

_But at what cost?_

“Tsukiyama-san—“ He tried to lift a hand, maybe to support the other, or maybe to brush away the bangs that had stuck to the sides of his ashen face. But the limb was unresponsive.

“The kakuja really takes its toll on a Ghoul.” Tsukiyama explained.

As if his words were taking a hold of him, Kaneki’s eyes began to droop.

“Route V14,” The other man tilted his head slightly, looking in its direction, “If my information serves me right, they have _him_ positioned there.” How he still managed to speak so calmly with a hole, _a hole that was his doing_ , in his chest was beyond Kaneki.

“He might come down here.”

“Tsukiyama-san—“

“Stay here, alright?”

“No, Tsukiyama-san wait—“

The hand gave his shoulder a squeeze.

“No—“

“Didn’t you say, to continue lending you my ‘sword’?”

“Not like this—“

“I’ll be your ‘sword’, but this time, let me be your ‘shield’, too.”

The hand slipped from his shoulder. Tsukiyama stood with a groan, leaning against the wall to catch his breath.

It was crazy. It was suicide. Sword? Shield? In his condition it would be impossible to be either.

“Tsukiyama-san!!!” He tried to get up, to chase after the man now making his way down the tunnel. But it was no use. His body was spent, and even after having _eaten_ it still needed time to recuperate.

“Tsukiyama-san!!!”

Tsukiyama trudged on, using the walls for support.

“Tsukiyama-san wait!!!”

He wanted to stop, out of reflex, out of all those months obeying every order his white-haired master gave.

“Tsukiyama-san…”

He must be further away now, because the voice was softer than before.

“ _Would you please not go???_ ”

He stopped, turning. The butterflies gathered up in his chest once more, and despite the hole, an entrance-way to freedom, being there, they still remained with him. Tsukiyama didn’t mind the company.

He smiled.

“ _We’ll meet again, Kaneki-kun_.”

||| ||| | ||| |||


End file.
